


Never Have I Ever

by al_fletcher, athenril_of_kirkwall (al_fletcher)



Series: Hudson Hawke [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Action/Adventure, Breaking and Entering, Crimes & Criminals, Dragon Age II - Act 1, F/M, Never Have I Ever, Prompt Fic, Romance, The Gallows (Dragon Age), The Hanged Man (Dragon Age), Truth or Dare, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/al_fletcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/athenril_of_kirkwall
Summary: Hawke tells Varric the most adventurous place he and Athenril banged.
Relationships: Athenril/Hawke (Dragon Age), Athenril/Male Hawke (Dragon Age)
Series: Hudson Hawke [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252316
Kudos: 2
Collections: DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fics





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for m!Hawke/Athenril, “Skulduggery”

“Bullshit,” Varric said, shaking his head as he sat opposite Hudson in the Hanged Man.

“Alright,” Hawke retorted, taking a swig of his ale before demanding, “What’s the most unbelievable thing about that?”

Varric cleared his throat, then said, “Where do I even begin? Breaking into the Viscount’s vault—”

“You don’t think I could do that?”, Hawke asked.

“Not for _that_ purpose!”, Varric objected, “That purpose being, apparently to engage in sexual congress atop a bed of gold coins with your employer!”

“I still don’t see any actual arguments against the notion,” Hudson said, knitting his fingers as he stretched behind his head.

“Have you _seen_ the inside of a bank vault before, Hawke?”, Varric asked pointedly. “Not the storeroom of a lesser noble or a simple warehouse, a legitimate one with thousands of sovereigns of other people’s money in it?”

Hawke dropped his arms then crossed them in front of his broad chest, asking, “What does it matter if I have or haven’t?”

“If you _had_ ,” Varric explained, “you’d know that nobody just leaves coins lying all over the place like a dragon’s hoard. How would they move it around? How would they check whether everything’s there when they open up shop?”

“All right, you’ve made your point—”

“On top of that, do you know just how uncomfortable that would be? Or dirty? Gold coins pass through a _lot_ of people’s hands, Hawke.”

Hawke groaned, conceding, “All right, I get it! Maker’s hairy balls, I just wanted something more exciting than ‘In the middle of the Chantry, late at night’ when you asked.”

“Well, that’s completely understandable,” Varric said, taking a drink. “Everyone and their sister’s done _that_.”

Hawke’s eyebrow twitched. “ _Everyone?_ ”

“Right behind the statue of Andraste,” Varric said. “Cute little chantry sister had to take ill the next day because she had a limp.”

Hawke paused, before saying, “I have _no_ idea if you’re pulling my leg right now.”

“And that’s what makes me a good storyteller and-slash-or renown writer,” Varric said. “Don’t sweat it, Hawke. I also wanted the whole sex-on-a-bed-of-gold-coins thing in one of my serials before my editor slapped it down.”

“ _Right,_ ” Hawke said, already drifting, “I guess it couldn’t have happened.”

“Not one bit,” Varric concluded.

* * *

“Well, Messere Hawke, that _does_ sound ridiculous,” Elegant said, dealing out cards a few nights later in the Blooming Rose, having successfully sneaked out of her husband’s manor for a brief reunion.

Tomwise, having emerged from Darktown in a fresh set of clothes, scooped his hand up, trying not to let his disappointment in his cards show, before agreeing, “It does sound like the sort of thing you’d make up on the spot.”

“Are you saying that I’m a bad liar?”, Hawke asked innocently.

“Well,” Elegant said, sorting through her own hand, “I’ve never seen someone with a more obvious tell. Right now, I reckon you’ve got…at least two knights.”

“I…you…that could just mean you stacked the deck!”, Hawke protested, staring at his cards.

Tomwise gave him a withering look. “I don’t think she actually knew before you admitted it, Hawke.”

Hawke groaned, turning his cards face-down.

“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell her the _actual_ most daring place the boss has had you,” Tomwise said, winning the hand with three angels.

“Oh, he’d never believe it,” Hawke said, “And also, I _really_ don’t need the Knight-Commander knowing about this if she’s going to start breathing down my sister’s neck.”

* * *

**About a year earlier, late at night**

_Knight-Commander’s Office, The Gallows_

“Hang on a moment here,” Hawke whispered, casting his gaze on some papers on the table.

Athenril stopped in his doorway. “What is it?”

“It’s the records of all the sales from the stalls in the courtyard, including the profits which our would-be apostates have been skimming off to pay us for their freedom,” he said.

“Take them,” she said. “It’ll be good to know what people come here to buy, so we can sell it to them for half the price and undercut their licensees.”

He shoved some of them into his pockets, then stared at the remainder on the table.

“What is it _now?_ ”, the elf hissed.

“There’s no point to holding on to these ones,” Hawke explained. “They’re just ledgers of total amounts going back and forth.”

“Then leave them, or destroy them, Hawke,” she said impatiently. “We don’t have time for this, Hawke.”

“I believe the Knight-Commander is going to be quite detained by her meeting with the Grand Cleric, and I think I know the best way of making them quite unusable,” Hawke said, tearing the loose sheets into quarters and laying out on the Knight-Commander’s chair.

Athenril’s eyes narrowed as she said, “I _don’t_ think so, Hawke. The key—”

Hawke tossed it out the window into the prison courtyard, watching as the thread he’d attached to its loop unspooled and followed it down until the key struck the ground with a soft ‘clink’, the thread’s other end firmly tied around the window grilles so he could retrieve it afterwards.

“I believe our man downstairs can handle that. Now then, don’t tell me you’ve _never_ fantasised about being the most powerful woman in the city, sitting in this very office,” at this, he empathically slapped the back of the Knight-Commander’s chair, “with the viscount’s head shoved between your…”

Interrupting him, she said, “If you think describing Messere Dumar’s alleged sexual prowess is supposed to turn me on, you can stop right now, Hawke. Still, I suppose the two of you look similar from that angle.”

Hawke defensively rubbed his hand along his buzzcut, complaining, “Now there, I cut it short, whilst _his_ hairline lost a long, pained, struggle against the ravages of t—”

Athenril, who had already stripped her trousers off to her smalls, sharply said, “Hawke, shut the fuck up and get down in front of the damned chair. You’d better hope I don’t get any cuts on my ass—or worse—from those receipts or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hawke said, cocking his head.

* * *

**Some years later**

“That’s _absolute_ bullshit,” Varric said.

“Oh, and what’s so unbelievable about _that?_ ”, Hawke asked, taking another drink in The Herald’s Rest. “Getting paper cuts on the bum? My inability to break into the Gallows when you _know_ it was leakier than a broken sieve? Athenril just dropping everything there and then?”

“Well, I—”, Varric protested.

“Or the fact that I, with the steeliest, calmest, expression in the world, broke up Meredith and Orsino’s argument after the qunari business and ended it with saying that ‘it can’t be easy, sitting in that chair and knowing that while you’re the most powerful woman in Kirkwall you can’t help but feel stuck in everyone else’s affairs’?”

Varric’s eyes practically widened to the size of cheese wheels.

“I have many, many questions,” the dwarf finally asked after regaining his composure, “but first of all, _when_ exactly did you learn to lie convincingly??”

“I don’t know,” Hawke said. “Must be your corrupting influence.”

“Me corrupting you, nothing! _You’re_ the one that ate out the Coterie’s biggest rival right on the Knight-Commander’s seat!”

“More comfortable than a bed of gold, I’ll tell you that,” Hawke said, raising his tankard. “To quote myself that night, bottoms up.”

He finished his drink as he successfully drove Varric into a spluttering fit, finally having had the last word for once.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://athenril-of-kirkwall.tumblr.com/post/630911202201124864/


End file.
